


Only The Horses Can Find Us Tonight

by Sportatiddy (TjLockticon)



Series: curled up, died, and now it's Rotten [3]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Fever, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Robbie FFS just let the poor hero help you, Robbie's dietary choices are horrifying, Sickfic, Tactical Cuddling, in which the boys finally get their shit together and talk things out like adults, like pretty graphic nightmares im sorry, the airship is a Frustrated Mom, who are we kidding neither of them know what the hell they're doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-21 01:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10675182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TjLockticon/pseuds/Sportatiddy
Summary: Despite everything they've been through, Robbie is still determined to convince himself that he doesn't need Sportacus's help.Sportacus would like to remind Robbie that he spent the last half hour throwing up and then passed out on the floor.Again.It's going to be yet another long night.-One-shot accompanyingSmells Like Something I'd Forgotten.





	Only The Horses Can Find Us Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between the end of _Smells Like Something I'd Forgotten_ and the beginning of the next installation of the series. 
> 
> Title is from yet another Scissor Sister's song, 'Only The Horses'.

Sportacus stared helplessly at the greatest problem he'd ever faced down on his own, and for just the briefest of moments he almost thought he would prefer the monster lurking in the sewers, not -  _this._ For all his training from his cousin and Loftskip, he'd never really been prepared for a situation quite like this one, and he had only one man to blame.

Without a doubt, Robbie's shopping list was the most terrifying thing Sportacus had ever read. 

Now, it could've been argued that Robbie had at least  _one_ healthy thing on the list - chicken noodle soup - but everything else was distinctly  _unhealthy,_ especially for someone who had spent a solid half an hour throwing up earlier that day before passing out stone cold on the futon the ship had provided. Every one of Sportacus's instincts told him not to buy anything on the list, but he knew there was no chance of getting Robbie to eat sportscandy, so that left Sportacus in a rather uncomfortable position.

He'd shopped at Lazytown's supermarket a few times when the ship ran out of his favorite fruits, but he had no idea where any of the things Robbie wanted him to get were located, and he'd already been here for an hour. If the ship was still intact by the time he got back, he'd thank every elvish god and maybe a few of the rare fairy ones, too. 

Sportacus glanced down at his sparsely occupied basket. So far he'd been able to find the soup and some hot cocoa mix. He considered just leaving with that and pretending to Robbie that everything else was conveniently sold out. 

...not that he'd ever been particularly good at  _lying,_ but it was either that or spend another hour in the store trying to figure out why the signs were in the wrong places and there never seemed to be any employees nearby to ask.

Sportacus made yet another circle around the familiar and trustworthy fruit stands before he spotted, in the corner of his eye, a flash of pink bounding his way. 

"Hey, Sportacus!"

Bubbly and bright as ever. Thank goodness the kids didn't have to live with the weight of knowing what was under their town; Sportacus envied them more than a little bit. Turning with a semi-forced grin, he said, "Hi, Stephanie."

She beamed at him, but her brow furrowed the longer she looked, taking in his... probably unexpected appearance. "I didn't know you actually  _owned_ different clothes," she commented, gesturing at his blue hoodie and sweat pants. "Did something happen again?" She glanced over at his basket next, and her frown deepened. "Uh, Sportacus, why are you buying hot cocoa mix? Doesn't that stuff have sugar in it??"

Sportacus's brain worked sluggishly through Stephanie's questions. "Yes, I have other clothes. I like my hero outfit, though, so usually I just wear that." At the mention of 'did something happen', his arms  _immediately_ started itching again. He hadn't changed the bandages since earlier that morning. In any case, that was a question he wasn't even going to  _try_ to answer, so he skipped right to the end.

"It's for Robbie," he said, too tired and... mentally elsewhere to care about the way Stephanie's eyebrows shot up towards her hairline.

"For  _Robbie?"_ she parroted.

Sportacus nodded. "He has a fever. I'm..."  _trying to make it up to him, trying to get him to trust me again, trying to distract myself from the fact that I could've killed him,_ "...helping him out until he gets better." Flashing a somewhat more genuine smile, he asked as the idea occurred to him, "I'm, ah, actually having a little trouble finding everything on his list. Do you think you could help me look?"

Stephanie was still giving him an oddly suspicious look, but she nodded all the same. Sportacus handed over the list, and as soon as she grabbed it from his hand, Stephanie's eyes bulged in almost the same horror Sportacus was experiencing. "Uh... he wants  _Cheetos?"_

Sportacus sighed weakly. "I don't even know what those  _are."_

"Well, they're made of cheese, I think, but they're really puffy and airy..."

Sportacus stared at her blankly, and Stephanie gave up after another few seconds of futilely trying to explain what a Cheeto was supposed to resemble. Sportacus grasped the vague concept of it, and he  _might_ have seen them before at Pixel's house, or in Ziggy's pockets, but he was more than happy to let Stephanie take charge of his impromptu shopping trip. With her help, instead of the two hours he'd been anticipating, he had everything he needed - or Robbie needed - in the basket within twenty minutes.

Stephanie followed Sportacus all the way to the checkout before she started looking down the aisles. "...I should probably go find my uncle," she said, smiling up at Sportacus. "I hope you and Robbie feel better."

Sportacus was about to say goodbye, and thank Stephanie for helping him, but as his brain picked through what she'd said, he stopped. "...I feel fine, Stephanie," he lied feebly.

Crossing her arms, Stephanie pursed her lips and gave Sportacus a knowing look. "You're barely smiling and you're  _walking_ everywhere. Are you still having nightmares?"

Well, that was certainly _one_ way to put it.

"It's complicated, Stephanie," Sportacus managed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Is it Robbie?"

Faster than he would've liked, Sportacus answered, "Yes." Seeing the roll to Stephanie's eyes, he quickly added, "He didn't do anything mean, Stephanie, it's just... grownup things."

She was still softly glaring. "Grownup things like my uncle and Bessie and him forgetting picnics, or grownup things like my mom sending me here so she and Dad could work out their problems without me distracting them?"

Sportacus almost flinched under the force of her glare. "...somewhere in between?" Definitely more of the latter, he felt. Though he suspected he and Robbie were in an  _astronomically_ worse situation. "I'll be fine, Stephanie, don't worry." The ship was doing enough of that already. "Thank you for helping me with the list. I should probably get back to Robbie now..." 

"You've been going to his house a lot," Stephanie said with a tone that Sportacus couldn't quite decipher. 

Without thinking, Sportacus corrected, "He's in my ship, actually."

She  _grinned._

Sportacus felt more than a little intimidated by the nine year old girl looking at him with what could only be described as a darkly impish half-grin that she was fighting and failing to keep hidden. After a moment she dropped her arms to her sides,  _batted her eyelashes,_ said, "See you around, Sportacus!" and about-faced and left Sportacus staring in mild shock in the checkout line.

Human children -  _all_ children - could be too smart for their own good, sometimes.

Paying for Robbie's  _mortifyingly_ unhealthy food items as quickly as he could so as not to linger where more people might see him and recognize him and _maybe_ catch him blushing, Sportacus ducked out of the store as the waning afternoon light fell over Lazytown. Picking up the pace as he crossed the street, he kept a watchful eye on every manhole he passed, and all the trees, too, just for good measure. 

After the other night...

Well, one way to put it was Sportacus had not touched his crystal since then. The ship was keeping it safe, still wrapped up in a few lingering fairy shadows in one of the wall compartments, but Sportacus had refused to touch it again. He'd tried, oh  _gods_ had he tried to work up the courage to do so, but...  _if_ it was still tainted, Robbie wouldn't stand a chance, the way he was right now.

Sportacus looped his shopping bags over one arm as he came to a halt and looked up.

"Ladder!"

The ladder uncurled and dropped down from the ship hovering about three stories up in the air. Sportacus grabbed on and wrapped his knees through the rungs, but instead of climbing up himself, as usual, he stayed put as the ladder slowly retracted back into the ship. When he'd decided to go down to Lazytown, the ship had explicitly forbidden him from straining his arms; no climbing, no handstands, no cartwheeling. 

Not that Sportacus had the energy for any of those things, but  _still,_ that was a  _little_ severe. His arms - well, yes, they still hurt, but it wasn't  _that_ bad.

Hauling himself onto the extended platform as the ladder reached the ship, Sportacus was looking through the grocery bags as he stepped through the door, and wasn't looking up as he heard she ship suddenly call out,  _"Sportacus, duck!"_

Every nerve in Sportacus's body snapped him to attention, and his vision slipped, out of habit, into his aura sense, blinding him to whatever was _actually_ threatening him. In the end, the ship's warning was for naught.

A grape came sailing through the air and smacked Sportacus on the forehead.

Two more followed - he dodged these ones - before he finally zeroed in on the cocoon of blankets sitting on his bed, scowling at him with reddened eyes, a runny nose, and a handful of grapes that were in no way being used for actual  _food._

"What took you so long??" Robbie snapped, voice so nasal he was practically lisping. 

Sportacus glanced up at the ceiling. "Ship, you know he doesn't  _eat_ those," he muttered. "Why did you even give them to him?"

 _"He was complaining,"_ Loftskip replied.  _"Besides, we agreed you deserved it, since you **did** take quite a long time. I was beginning to worry."_

Sportacus gestured vaguely at himself. "It's still me."

"Did you get everything?" Robbie asked, slowly sliding off the bed, taking all the blankets with him. Hunched over even worse than usual, he hobbled across the room to Sportacus as a table slid out of the wall and Sportacus set the groceries down on top of it. 

Pursing his lips, Sportacus said, "Robbie, please don't get up."

"Fuck you," Robbie coughed. "I swear, if you forgot something-"

"I ran into Stephanie at the store," Sportacus sighed. "She helped. I got everything." Fighting off a wave of nausea - probably attributed more to his own lack of eating anything recently and less to Robbie's food choices - Sportacus pulled things out of the plastic bags and listed off, "Hot cocoa mix, chicken soup, Cheetos...  _cookie dough ice cream..._ a six pack of Dr. Pepper, cherry cough drops... Robbie, how are you still  _alive??"_

"Red Bull and spite. Now gimme the Cheetos." 

"Robbie, I don't think-"

"That's right, you _don't_ ," Robbie interrupted, grabbing at the Cheetos bag. Sportacus snatched it away before he could reach it, and Robbie leveled him with a glare that  _might_ have been intimidating if it weren't for the blotchy cheeks and the crustiness around his nose. 

"Robbie," Sportacus said as firmly as he dared, "you threw up  _three times_ already. At least start with the soup." 

Robbie sneered, but a hacking cough drove the expression off his face. He settled for grabbing the bag of cough drops, and Sportacus could hear him grumbling in fae as he turned from the table and limped back to the bed. " _Fine_ , but you're making it for me."

Sportacus sighed under his breath as Robbie curled up on the bed again. Walking over to the wall, Sportacus brushed his hand over a panel near the pantry, and emptied a can of chicken soup into a bowl. He hadn't used the ship's microwave since... well, a long time. Years, at least. He remembered Íþró making them popcorn once-

He grit his teeth.

_Not thinking about him, not thinking about him or any of them, not right now-_

_"Four times,"_ the ship said softly, in Elvish, as Sportacus set the microwave to three and a half minutes.

Giving the walls a curious look, Sportacus responded in the same tongue,  _"What do you mean?"_

_"He threw up again while you were gone. Mostly dry heaving."_

Sportacus grimaced.  _"Did his fever go down at all?"_

_"No. It is still 103.4."_

"Hey!" Robbie rasped from the bed. "If you're going to gossip about me, do it in a language I understand!"

"...sorry, Robbie," Sportacus murmured, switching back to English. "Ship said you threw up while I was gone."

Robbie shrugged slowly. "So?"

Sportacus frowned. "So what did you do? The other times it was because you'd eaten something, but I'm pretty sure you didn't eat any of my food..."

Wrapping the blankets around himself even further, the only thing of Robbie left exposed was the upper half of his face as he glowered at Sportacus and sniffed, "Might've tried magic."

Sportacus's eyes went wide.  _"Robbie-"_

"Yeah, I figured out it was stupid after I nearly vomited up my lungs. I don't need a lecture from you, too." He squirmed deeper into his nest of blankets, unpeeled two cough drops and tossed them into his mouth, and mumbled, "Thanks, but no thanks."

The microwave dinged quietly, sparing either of them from further arguing for the time being. Sportacus inhaled slowly, biting down the urge to get frustrated with his sick half-fae house guest. He let the soup cool down for a few minutes after taking it out before bringing it over to Robbie with a small plate of butter crackers he'd elected to buy in addition to the rest of Robbie's list.

Pulling a small table-tray out of a compartment in the wall, Sportacus set it up in front of Robbie's lap, crouching down on the balls of his feet at the foot of the bed as Robbie stared listlessly at the soup and crackers. Robbie nudged the crackers with one hand, slowly breathing in the steam from the bowl.

"...thanks," he muttered, not looking Sportacus in the eyes as he said it.

 _"Sportacus, I suggest you eat, too,"_ the ship commented as Robbie poked the bowl with a spoon.

Sportacus acknowledged the ship with a nod, but his attention remained on Robbie. "Do you... need any help?"

Robbie wiggled the fingers on his right hand. "Still have _one_  working arm," he grumbled. 

Sportacus lingered at the foot of the bed for a few more seconds before he got up. Pressing his hand to the pantry panel - he didn't have any particular inclination towards his usual gymnastics - he picked two bananas and an orange off of the shelves and sat down next to the table, facing Robbie and watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

It only took a few minutes for Robbie to mutter, "Will you quite gawking?"

Face flushing, Sportacus ducked his head down and stared at the floor. He focused on peeling the orange instead, and listened to the clinking of a spoon against a ceramic bowl. After that he kept himself busy putting away the rest of Robbie's groceries, and picking up the several hundred letters  _still_ scattered around the ship since the last few nights. Putting them away was a tedious task, and not helped at all by the fact that some of them were now covered in small blotches of relatively fresh blood.

Just the sight of the blood was enough to make Sportacus's stomach churn, and remind him of the subject he'd been anxiously skirting around mentioning to Robbie.

Blood led his brain to _last night_ and then to claws and then to - to-

It was  _them,_ and they wanted-

Sportacus clenched his jaw.

_Robbie's sick, Robbie's sick, we don't need to talk about this right now, we **don't.**_

But there were still so many things he wanted -  _needed -_ to say to Robbie, so many properly worded apologies he hadn't gotten a chance to say yet. That night they'd both been too exhausted and too distraught to hold anything resembling a conversation, and Robbie had woken up this morning with a raging fever, and since then... any discussion had slipped out of reach, falling into the quiet corners of the room and lurking there like a particularly sinister elephant.

Besides. Sportacus  _highly_ doubted that Robbie wanted to  _talk._ Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if, when he was over the fever, Robbie never wanted to interact with him again.

He wouldn't  _blame_ Robbie if it came to that, but it still hurt to realize that this probably wasn't going to end any other way.

 

* * *

 

Robbie made it through half of his bowl of soup before he decided that it tasted disgusting - though that might've been lingering traces of vomit in his mouth, and his complete inability to smell at the moment - and pushed away from the tray, huddled around his bag of cough drops. He popped another three into his mouth and started across the room at Sportacus.

For the first time since the elf had come back from shopping, Robbie noticed he was wearing a hoodie, instead of his usual 'slightly-above-average-hero' outfit. Robbie blamed the fever, but the elf looked... nice, when he dressed normal. He looked altogether too much like an elf when in his ridiculous getup, but now the only evidence that he was anything but human was the cute little pointed ears.

Robbie shook his head dazedly.

... _weird_ little pointed ears.

Weird.  _Not_ cute. Obviously. 

_Art by[Celepom](http://celepom.tumblr.com)_

His gauze-swaddled arm slowly shifted underneath the blankets, moving across his chest and cupping over his shoulder, the sleeve barely reaching halfway down his forearm. After the mess of the past few days, his shirt was all but completely torn to shreds, and Sportacus had given him the largest workout hoodie he owned, which was barely enough to cover him.

Stupid short elves.

Robbie's fingers curled over his shoulder, digging into the soft cotton, grazing the slowly-forming scabs on his back.

Through the fever haze, Robbie remembered-

_"You have wings."_

His throat tightened.

What the hell did Sportacus know?? Robbie didn't have  _wings,_ he would probably have  _noticed_ by now if that were the case. He just - he'd taken after the  _human_ half a bit more than the fairy, that was all, some half-fae were just unlucky like that. Or lucky, depending on how one looked at it, if he'd had wings they probably would be  _gone_ now, just like-

Just like-

Robbie pressed his head into his knees and sucked in a sharp breath that quickly turned into a hacking cough and -  _didn't stop._

Doubling over, Robbie grabbed his chest and wheezed, his lungs fighting for air and just  _not getting any-_

"Robbie!"

A hand tugged the blankets away from him, and the cold air of the ship made him shiver  _and_ cough, and the hand moved to his back next and every instinct in his body told him to  _flee-_

The hand rubbed in circles, smooth and rhythmic, and slowly the coughing fit subsided, leaving Robbie shaking on the bed, listing to one side until he found himself slumping into an exceedingly soft and warm surface that was probably the elf's chest-

"Robbie, are you okay?"

...and of course Sportacus would go and  _speak_ and ruin the moment by reminding Robbie of just how damn  _sick_ and  _useless_ he was. Sitting up painfully slow, Robbie turned a reflexive glare on the elf and rasped, "Just fucking _dandy_." 

Sportacus pursed his lips and nodded slowly, and his hand jerked away from Robbie's back all of a sudden. Robbie couldn't bring himself to put two and two of _anything_ together and figured the elf was just being stingy about Robbie's tone of voice. Sportacus's eyes trailed downwards to the bag in Robbie's lap, and Robbie was too tired to try and stop him as he picked them up and narrowed his eyes at the contents.

"...Robbie, how many of these have you eaten??"

Robbie shrugged. "Mmm... eleventeen."

The elf sputtered. "Robbie, that's - that's not even a number."

"Well, it is in _Fae_." 

Sportacus eyed the cough drops warily. "...I think you've had a few too many of these."

"Too many cough drops?" Robbie sniffed. "I'm shocked. They have your precious sportscandy in 'em and everything, I thought you'd be shoving them down my throat."

"They don't actually-" Sportacus cut himself off mid-sentence and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Never mind. Are you done with the soup?"

Robbie nodded sluggishly. As Sportacus cleared the tray and the dishes away, the lights in the ship dimmed slowly, and Robbie focused on remaking his nest on Sportacus's... admittedly not  _uncomfortable_ bed. Up above, the ship's voice came gently,  _"I suggest that the two of you go to sleep early tonight."_

Brow furrowing, Robbie looked up at the ship. "What time...?"

_"6:13."_

Earlier than Robbie usually went to bed, by a stretch of several hours. Not so much for Sportacus, but he noticed the elf's head perk up sharply at the ship's words. "Only that?" Sportacus murmured, rubbing a hand through his fluffy blonde hair. "I thought it... it feels later."

Fluffy. Why was  _that_ what Robbie's brain latched onto??

 _"You are both exhausted and one of you is running a high fever. Sleep is the best course of action for you right now. I will continue to monitor Lazytown and will alert you if there is a problem."_ After a moment, she amended,  _"Provided that the issue is not one that I can solve by myself."_

Sportacus pursed his lips again, nearly pouting, and in the delirium Robbie dared think it was  _cute._ "Ship-" he started to protest, but the floor panels parted just behind Sportacus, cutting him off as a small couch emerged from the floor and butted against his calf.

_"Sleep, Sportacus. You still need to heal."_

Robbie, nosy as ever, peered at the couch and mumbled, "What's that?"

 _"It was my assumption that Sportacus would not be making use of his own bed, considering it is occupied,"_ the ship stated.  _"Unless I was mistaken?"_

Sportacus's back was to Robbie, but the elf's shoulder's tensed visibly before he pulled his hoodie off and dropped it next to the couch. Voice slightly higher-pitched than usual, Sportacus said, "You're correct, ship. Thank you."

Robbie narrowed his eyes at the elf's back, then at the ceiling.

Why would it even be a  _question -_ obviously they weren't going to share a  _bed._

Robbie curled up into his cocoon of blankets, lying on his side and facing distinctly  _away_ from the elf. Normally his insomnia would be demanding he get up and  _do_ something, or just stare at the ceiling fruitlessly, but the itchiness in his throat and headache and the utter  _exhaustion_ throughout his body made sleep seem extremely tempting.

As the ship's lights dimmed, he heard someone shuffling around on a couch, and in the stillness the sound of Sportacus breathing was just loud enough to reach Robbie's ears.

In and out.

He tried to match the elf's rhythmic breaths. With the cough, it was hard, but-

In. Out. In. Out.

Blue and white.

Soft dirty blonde hair.

Robbie was asleep within minutes.

 

* * *

 

The snoring told Sportacus that Robbie fell asleep not fifteen minutes after the ship dimmed her lights.

He could feel the lump in his throat grow bigger as he stared across the ship at the vaguely Robbie-shaped bundle on his bed. 

 _"Sportacus,"_ the ship whispered gently,  _"please, sleep."_

He ground his palm into his eyes, whole body tense, and it took no shortage of rigorous  _thinking_ to make himself relax. "If he gets worse, ship,  _please_ wake me up. I can't - I just-"

_"I know, little one. I know. Now sleep."_

"He hates me."

_"...sometimes it amazes me how alike you and your cousin are."_

Sportacus frowned in the dark. What was  _that_ supposed to mean??

He watched Robbie for as long as he could and fought off sleep until he couldn't take it anymore, and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Her elves were so alike. They loved too easily.

And they never seemed to notice when they were loved back. Much as she wished otherwise, this was not a problem she could solve. It was entirely up to Sportacus and Robbie to sort through this particular problem.

But there were other problems she could take care of.

She turned her scans towards Lazytown and watched for the monster as the moon climbed through the sky.

 

* * *

 

_He can't see._

_But-_

_Oh, gods, he can **hear.** And he can  **feel.**_

_Frigid liquid, not quite water and not quite mud, sticking into his pants and his bare feet - he's been walking for what feels like forever, back aching and legs aching and **everything** aching, and nothing changes, not the light or the sound, it just - keeps going. And it's so cold. So wet and so cold and it won't  **end.**_

_And the **noise-**_

**Plip.**

_It is everywhere, like a leaking faucet, or the last of the rain after a storm patting the hatch or tree branches. Just the quietest of dripping sounds echoing in the black, against the freezing water, sometimes on the back of his neck. He can't find where it **starts** and he can't find a way out and as much as he tries he can't make himself  **think** to explain how he's gotten here-_

**Plip. Plip.**

_It's just like down there, down in the dark with the lying face roaring through the tunnels, her colors itching at his eyes-_

_He can't hear them now - but that doesn't mean they aren't there **,** it only means they're quieter. Smarter. Maybe they've found a way to make their wings work again and they're up in the darkness circling and spraying raindrops down to torment him and-_

_And-_

**Plip.**

_He collapses in the water and tries to splash, tries to scream, tries to make any sound at all **except** that damn dripping-_

_Nothing._

_Nothing._

_No voice, no town, no safety, no Sportacus-_

**Plip. Plip. Plip.**

 

 

* * *

 

_"Robbie??"_

_It's so dark - pitch black, save for a red light above his head, garish and sizzling without a source. He can't tell if there is ground beneath him, or anything in any direction. There is only the red glow, the horrible crimson that throbs like a huge heartbeat, pulsing and pulsing-_

_-and his chest pulses with it._

_He looks down and his crystal is back, right where it belongs, right where he **does not want it to be-**_

_He tries to dig it out, tries to pry it loose, and it sinks deeper into its casing._

_Deeper into **him**._

_He drops to his knees, clawing madly at his chest as it goes deeper, burrowing under his skin, suddenly sharp and so are his claws, except they weren't claws a moment ago and they aren't stopping, they keep growing and growing and slicing his chest to ribbons and they still can't reach the crystal-_

_He can't breathe._

**_He can't breathe._ **

_"Robbie-" he croaks. "Ship-"_

_No one is there. The light burns hotter up above, and he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in decades-_

_The crystal sinks all the way to his heart._

_Something bubbles in his throat. At first he thinks it's a scream, but in seconds he realizes - it's blood. It churns up his throat and spills over his lip, out his ears and nose, doubles back down and floods his lungs-_

_His claws are talons, then they are scythes, then they're black and bloody and too heavy on his fingers-_

_He hears his jacket tear first, as something presses out the back, straight through his spine with a crunch. Then out the front and it **doesn't stop,** he looks down and glittering in the light is his crystal, pale blue and bloody and jagged, erupting out of his chest like a sapling out of the ground, he can't tell but the tears pouring out of his eyes might be blood, too-_

_It grows and it grows and it won't stop and he screams._

 

* * *

 

Sportacus woke up clutching his chest, sitting upright so fast he pitched to the side and fell off the couch. Landing on his arm, he let out a weak hiss as the air was knocked momentarily from his lungs, and he winced as a spike of pain shot up his arm from his elbow. Righting himself with a low groan, he rubbed at his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat and the distinct  _lack_ of crystals growing through his ribs.

_Bad dream. Bad dream._

That was all it was. Nothing else. 

His heartbeat barely slowed down, and his breathing wasn't much better.

Gripping the edge of the couch cushions, Sportacus slowly pulled himself to his knees, crossing his arms and planting his face down on the blanket, trying to get himself to stop hyperventilating.

_Two, three, four-_

He heard a cough.

Still dizzy from the nightmare, Sportacus lifted his head and turned around, squinting through the darkness, trying to listen for any sound above the blood roaring in his ears.

Another cough. 

Then a whimper.

_Five, six, seven-_

Sportacus clenched his jaw as he  _finally_ got control over his lungs again, and as his head cleared, he became all too aware of something across the room, thrashing weakly on his bed, whimpering faintly through ragged breaths and coughs.

His eyes widened in alarm.

"Robbie!"

Staggering to his feet, Sportacus hurried over to the bed, crawling on it as a blanket-wrapped Robbie squirmed desperately in his sleep. "Ship, lights!"

A dim light in the ceiling snapped on, and Sportacus saw Robbie's nose scrunched up, and his eyes half-lidded and barely focused on anything, squirming feebly in his nest of blankets. In a not-quite-awake state of dull panic, Sportacus pressed his palm to Robbie's forehead, dreading a blazing hot fever that could turn the squirming into a seizure-

-it was cold. Robbie's skin was ice cold.

Each breath was halfway a sob, cut through with murmured words in fae-speech that Sportacus couldn't understand.

Scrambling to get the stifling blankets off of Robbie, Sportacus peeled them away while whispering, "Robbie, Robbie, wake up.  _Wake up."_ Framing Robbie's face with his hands, he hunched over the feverish man and rubbed his thumbs over Robbie's temples, the same way his cousin used to do to soothe a younger him from childhood nightmares.

"Robbie, wake up,  _please."_

Between the wheezes and the clamped teeth, Robbie let out a low whimper. His eyelids fluttered, and the wheezes went slowly quiet, until all that was left were stuttering hiccups. Sportacus kept rubbing Robbie's head, migrating one hand to his hair, carding through it slowly as he coaxed, "Come on, Robbie, wake up. It's just a nightmare. Just a bad dream."

Robbie's eyes opened painfully slow, and were full of tears.

"...Sportaflop?" he croaked.

Sportacus let out a shaky breath. "Robbie, it's okay. You're okay."

Robbie lifted a shivering hand to his face and covered his eyes, turning away from Sportacus and curling halfway into the fetal position in what remained of his blanket nest. Sportacus slowly sat back on his knees, struggling to get his hands to stop trembling _,_ he didn't need to be panicking anymore, Robbie was  _fine-_

"...couldn't see," Robbie whispered. "C-couldn't see  _anything,_ just... wet. Everywhere." He made a popping sound. "Dripping. Like down there."

Sportacus bit his lower lip. "You're not down there, Robbie. You're safe."

Robbie let out a wheezing hysterical laugh. "Safe... yeah,  _sure."_

Sportacus's stomach twisted. 

_Robbie's fine, Robbie's fine, just go, just leave him alone-_

"...do you need anything?" he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he came to the conclusion that he wasn't getting any more sleep for a little while. Between the nightmare and Robbie and the fact that every nerve in his body was on fire, and his arms were aching again - no, he'd deal without sleep. It wasn't going to do him any good, anyway.

When Robbie didn't say anything, Sportacus nodded slowly, understanding perfectly what the silence meant.

"Okay, Robbie. I'll... I'll be close, if you need me."

But of course, Robbie didn't.

 

* * *

 

No dripping.

No  _water._

It was warm and soft, and-

Sportacus.

Robbie woke shivering to the feeling of calloused hands on his face, combing through his hair, as bright blue eyes stared down at him, wide with worry. The elf's hair was messy and sticking out at odd angles, and he was  _shaking-_

"It's just a nightmare," Sportacus whispered, "just a bad dream."

There was no 'just' about it, Robbie still  _felt_ the dream through every muscle in his body, but - hands. Eyes.  _Stupid soft accent._

He squinted up through teary eyes. "...Sportaflop?" he gasped out, edges of his mouth trying to smile, but the shudders wracking his body and the coughing forced it away. 

"Robbie, it's okay. You're okay."

Debatable.  _Extremely_ debatable. But - if not okay, then at least  _better._ A little bit. His breathing slowly got easier, and he lifted a hand up to his face, covering his eyes against the garish light filling the room. It was better than the inky blackness of the nightmare, but it still hurt like  _hell,_ and he was still too bleary to properly ask for the ship to turn it off.

"...couldn't see," Robbie mumbled. "C-couldn't see  _anything,_ just... wet. Everywhere." Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he deliriously added, "Dripping. Like down there." Down there with certain  _death_ that had  _her face-_

He could hear Sportacus shifting about, sitting not even a foot away on the bed. "You're not down there, Robbie."

And he knew that. Of course he  _knew_ that, didn't he?

"You're safe."

 _Wards_ were safe. Or they used to be.  _She_ was safe,  _or she used to be._

This ship was never supposed to be  _safe,_ but it was.

Robbie shouldn't feel  _safe_ here, with -  _him._

But he did.

The sheer  _absurdity_ of that made him laugh in a hysterical, dazed wheeze. "Safe... yeah, sure." Safe with an elf? Shouldn't have been possible, he'd  _seen_ exactly how unsafe elves were, but-

"...do you need anything?"

The tension in Robbie's body slowly eased. The feverish flush to his cheeks worsened, and too many thoughts swarmed his head, trying to reach his tongue all at the same time, and it would just come out a babbled mess if he didn't  _focus_ just this once-

"I'll - I'll be close if you need me."

_What-?_

He heard the bed squeak as the elf moved to  _leave._

Oh, gods, he hadn't - he hadn't said  _anything-_

Before Robbie had a chance to think it through, weigh pros against cons and then conclude with a delirious  _fuck it,_ his arm shot out and his hand grabbed Sportacus's wrist. He could feel the elf tense under his fingers, and Robbie watched Sportacus's head turn to him, eyes fearfully wide and lip in the midst of being bitten, sweat staining his brow and dark circles under his eyes-

"Don't-" Robbie coughed. "Don't go. _Yet_ ," he added frantically, just in case - just in case the elf was looking too deeply into what Robbie was saying.

Sportacus  _stared._

Robbie mirrored the biting lip and tugged Sportacus's arm. The elf practically melted, slumping down on the too-narrow bed, worming into the blanket nest and lying so close to Robbie they could probably feel each other's breath. The lights were still too blinding, and Robbie covered his face beneath his hand again, muttering, "Can she - can she get rid of the light?"

"Why-"

"Too bright," Robbie said.

Sportacus leaned his head back and called out softly, "Ship, dim lights."

It went dark in seconds. The room was lit well enough from the moonlight streaming through the huge windows at the front of the ship, and Robbie finally let out a breath of relief as his headache receded just a little bit, and he could finally  _look_ over at Sportacus.

So.

They were sharing a bed.

He  _really_ hadn't thought this through, but it was too late to tell the elf to leave  _now._

"Robbie-"

"I'm not going to sleep," Robbie interrupted breathlessly. "I just - can't."

Sportacus mustered a wry grin. "...me neither."

Robbie realized his hand was still gripping Sportacus's wrist. He quickly retreated, flexing his fingers anxiously. The dull nightmare panic was still all too present, blurring his thoughts with memories of water. "I just-" Why had he made Sportacus  _stay._ Now that the regret had a chance to manifest, it was manifesting just as potently as his wards, yelling at him and reminding him of what happens  _every time_ a fae lets an elf get close-

His lungs tightened again in another coughing fit.

He couldn't even tell quite how it happened, but-

As soon as the coughing started, Sportacus reached out and wrapped his arms around Robbie and pulled him close. Robbie found his face pressed up against the elf's chest, hands near his  _shoulders-_

The elf was warm.

His coughing fit trailed off into a haggard wheeze, and Robbie asked, "What are you - what are you doing??"

He heard Sportacus murmur above his head, "Helping. I hope."

Robbie closed his eyes and sank into the warmth, and between the soft cotton blankets and the cotton t-shirt and Sportacus's warm skin and a smell like apple pie, his breathing evened out. Despite the warning impulses in the back of his head, reminding him of what happened last time Sportacus was touching his  _back,_ he let the elf hold him close.

It helped him get through the cough. That was the  _only_ reason. Obviously.

Still. After about... ten or so minutes... it was  _slightly_ smothering.

Pushing gently against Sportacus's chest, Robbie felt the elf's arms release him immediately. The way the elf moved around him, almost gingerly, like Robbie was made of glass, struck an odd note in Robbie's head. On the one hand, it was a bit insulting. On the other hand, the fever didn't mind at all. Being able to breathe was nice.

But if they weren't going to be sleeping, what would they do, just - stare at each other in the dark? Robbie's mind raced. He needed  _some_ kind of distraction, anything to keep himself from thinking of -  _water -_ and he suspected the elf could do with a distraction, too. He recognized the twitching in the elf's eye, the clenching of his fists, and he gathered the elf had some kind of nightmare of his own.

Before he could consider just how  _bad_ and  _invasive_ of a question it was, Robbie blurted out the first thought that came to mind that wasn't painful or particularly related to things that had happened within the last week or last night. 

"Why'd you live with your cousin?"

Even in the dark, he could see Sportacus pale. "Why do you-"

"I'm sick," Robbie justified lamely. "Humor me."  _I just like hearing your voice_ and  _I'm a nosy piece of shit_ went unmentioned.

Sportacus curled his fingers into the blankets. "I... when I was a kid, I wanted to join the numbered order, like Íþró."

Robbie cringed at the name and hoped Sportacus didn't notice, and it seemed Robbie was lucky, as the elf continued, "My parents... they didn't have anything to do with the order, and usually people who train to be heroes are family of the current ones, so it was... traditional, I guess? Íþró took me in and trained me since I was... six, I think. I never - I never left him after that. I don't even really remember my parents." With a halfhearted shrug, Sportacus mumbled, "We used to talk over letters, but after Íþró went missing, they..."

"What, they stopped talking to you??" Robbie interrupted in alarm. Even after Glanni  _explicitly_ told them to stay out of it, Robbie's mother went to help him, and - and Sportacus must've been only a bit older than Robbie - what kind of family  _did_ that??

The edge of Sportacus's mouth twitched, and he let out a slow, controlled breath. "They thought I was getting 'obsessed' with finding Íþró. They're old-fashioned, they're... better at accepting when people are gone." Robbie heard a broken chuckle. "They might've also hinted that they thought Íþró had run off with Glanni and abandoned me. They tried to get me to come home, but ship made it pretty clear that she didn't want me near them, so I just... haven't talked to them."

Robbie's brow furrowed. "Wait, they - they knew about Glanni??"

Sportacus averted his gaze. " _Everyone_ related to the order knew about Glanni. The council of heroes thought Íþró..." A vein in Sportacus's temple throbbed. "The order tried to keep Íþró away from Glanni. They said other heroes could handle him if he caused trouble, but Íþró... he was convinced if anyone else tried to talk to Glanni or - or  _stop_ him, they'd just kill each other."

Robbie scoffed. "Not like  _he_ did a better job."

Sportacus froze. Robbie's fingers dug into his palm, and he stammered, "I didn't - I didn't mean it like that, Sportacus-"

"No, you're right," Sportacus murmured. "He... sometimes I wondered if my parents were right about them." He glanced up to the ceiling. "Ship always told me that Íþró would never abandon me, but I wasn't... always sure. I don't even think she was sure, I know she didn't like what Íþró was doing any more than I did."

Robbie's mouth felt dry. "...what  _was_ he doing? What - what was his deal with Glanni??"

Sportacus  _finally_ looked him in the eye, brow furrowing in confusion. "Didn't you live with Glanni?"

Robbie snorted. "Barely. And it's not like he ever talked about your cousin except to tell us how  _dangerous_ he was." Fidgeting uncomfortably, Robbie admitted, "I... read some of your letters. Before you came back all possessed. I just... figured you and your cousin seemed closer, so maybe you knew what was going on between them." Not that Robbie was an  _idiot,_ as a child he'd never quite grasped the situation, but the older he got and the more he  _thought_ about the way Glanni behaved, and his mother's disdain... well, it wasn't too hard to guess what was 'going on' between them.

Sportacus wrapped his arms around his chest and went back to staring off into space. "...I always knew Íþró cared about Glanni, when I was a kid, I thought that just meant he was trying to stop Glanni from hurting people and getting himself into trouble. I... didn't figure out until I was a bit older that Íþró..." Sportacus went suddenly quiet, drawing in slow breaths that Robbie  _knew_ were being painstakingly controlled so as not to descend into a panic attack.

"Íþró loved Glanni," Sportacus said under his breath. Robbie's hands curled into fists, and he wasn't even surprised by Sportacus's words. At this point, what other explanation was there? It was twisted and he hadn't always been  _aware_ of it, but on some level he'd known for a while that his uncle and Sportacus's cousin had some strange, probably unhealthy excuse for 'romance' between them.

No wonder Robbie's mother was always so upset with Glanni whenever the elf was mentioned.

The question on the tip of Robbie's tongue tasted like bile. "...do you think Glanni loved him back?" he asked.

He saw Sportacus's hand clench around his shoulder. "Seems pretty clear what fae think of elves."

Robbie frowned. "The hell's  _that_ supposed to mean?"

Sportacus's eyes found their way back to Robbie's, narrowed and blotchy and  _hurt._ "Glanni hated Íþró, you hate me," he mumbled, "pretty cut-and-dry from where I'm standing. Not that I - not that I _blame_ you, but that's how it is, isn't it?"

Never in his life had Robbie so desperately wanted to  _strangle_ Sportacus. Even back when he had  _himself_ convinced that he hated the elf, he was more paranoid than anything and certainly not - not  _this_ particular brand of irritated and horrified and guilty.

"I mean," Sportacus continued sullenly, before Robbie could get any word in edgewise, "I know you don't hate anyone  _else_ in Lazytown. The kids call you a 'villain' but none of your plots or machines ever  _hurt_ them, or their parents, and you - you came to Ziggy's  _birthday party,_ Robbie. I'm the only one you've ever tried to run out of town and for the longest time I had  _no idea_ why. Hell, I even managed to convince myself that it was just a game. Up until you  _told_ me, I never really figured out that you  _hated_ me."

Robbie stared in bleak horror as Sportacus shifted uneasily, tucking his knees under his arms, still refusing to look Robbie in the eye, but Robbie could still see the hints of tears on the elf's cheeks that weren't there before-

"But-"  _what the hell do I say whatthehelldoIsay-_ "You keep saving me??"

Sportacus made a vague sound similar to a scoff, but he was too tired to make it sound malicious. "Well, aside from the obvious that you don't deserve to  _die,_ I couldn't shake the habit of wanting to be... friends. I thought - maybe if I proved I wasn't trying to hurt you, you'd trust me. And then I found out you knew I was an elf and all  _this_ happened," he gestured at the bandages on both their arms, "and it's all been happening so fast, I forgot - I forgot for a bit what you  _really_ thought of me. I thought we could - if we worked together, maybe you'd - maybe you'd-" 

The elf cut himself off with a shudder that sounded all too much like a man trying to keep himself from crying. 

 

* * *

 

This was wrong, this was all going wrong, why hadn't he just kept his mouth  _shut??_

Now Robbie  _knew._ Maybe not the full extent, maybe not the way it  _ate_ at Sportacus's heart, but it was said and it was out there in the open for Robbie to pick apart and degrade and shirk away from like he always did.

Fae hated elves, and elves got too caught up in  _caring_ to notice.

Sportacus's head was starting to hurt, and so was his chest. His thoughts could barely form a coherent string, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew a part of him was  _aching_ for his crystal to come back and help him  _think-_

He couldn't trust it, couldn't trust himself,  _shouldn't_ make Robbie try and trust him, that would just get them both hurt, in the end.

It was said. It was said and that was it and it was  _done._

He buried his face into the blankets and wished for just a moment that Robbie had let the monster rip Sportacus to pieces.

 

* * *

 

Robbie sat up, supporting himself on trembling arms, ears depressurizing from the fever as he looked down at the elf who was now  _blatantly_ refusing to look Robbie in the eyes. A sudden squirming in Robbie's stomach held an unfamiliar sense of guilt, something he'd  _never_ experienced in regards to - to  _anyone,_ not like this, he'd never - he'd never  _hurt_ anyone like this.

_"Get out of my town."_

_"Go away."_

_"Leave Lazytown **forever."**_

_"I knew I couldn't trust an **elf."**_

Every bitter accusation, every hollow threat, every twinge of  _disgust_ in his tone-

The only person Robbie was disgusted with  _now_ was himself.

"Sportacus-" He rubbed a frantic hand over his face, and reached down with his broken hand to nudge the elf. "Sportacus, breathe, for fuck's sake. I don't-"  _just get the words out, Robbie,_ "I don't hate you. I  _don't._ I mean, I did  _before-"_ Oh, gods, that didn't help in the slightest. Sportacus only curled further into a miserable little elf-ball. 

Robbie grabbed a fistful of t-shirt and pulled Sportacus upright, straining through the feverish haze with all the determination he could muster until Sportacus was finally sitting up, still staring listlessly down at the bed. The blankets surrounding them, and the absolute  _silence_ broken only by the ship's machine hum, seemed to isolate the two of them from the world entirely.

It was just them, too many long-unspoken words, and Robbie's feverish delirium, breaking through every last one of the carefully honed barriers he'd built to protect himself against -  _anything_ that could make him question just how much he was supposed to hate elves.

"Look, I'm not going to lie," Robbie began uncertainly. "I... didn't trust you. At  _all._ And I certainly didn't want to be your  _friend._ But-" He dragged his fingers through his hair, flicking his tongue over his lips as he tried to find the explanation that would sound the most sincere, which wasn't something he particularly excelled at. "...sometimes you made me forget."

Sportacus breathed slowly. "...what?" he whispered.

Robbie scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but the elf. "I... you're so damn  _cheery_ and with all the obnoxious flipping and the way you are with the kids, and being nice to everyone, even  _me..._ sometimes I forgot I was supposed to hate you."  _Just say it. **Just say it.**_ "Even before I, um... before all this happened... I wanted to trust you, sometimes. You made it seem like you were  _safe_ and I know that you  _are,_ it's just - it took some getting used to. My mother told me for so long to never trust an elf and after what happened with them, I thought you were just like Íþró... it was hard to get used to  _not_ wanting to hate you."

Sportacus's brows knit together again. "Robbie..."

Robbie dragged both hands down his face, gauze itching against his skin. "I'm not good at this, Sportacus. I've never - I don't  _talk_ to people. I haven't since I was a kid, and even then it was just... with them."

Fuck, he was just making excuses, wasn't he?? And none of it was getting  _through_ to Sportacus - none of it was making him  _understand._

Robbie sucked in a deep breath.

"...I'm sorry."

Sportacus gave him the single most  _baffled_ look Robbie had ever seen the elf give anyone, and considering Lazytown's everyday shenanigans, that was saying something. Increasingly flustered, Robbie continued after a quiet cough, "I'm... sorry for jumping to conclusions before, and making you think I still hate you after everything that's happened."

There.

Said and... not quite done, but  _said,_ and honestly that was farther than Robbie had expected to get.

Now all he could do was fiddle with the blanket and battle the fever delirium and hope that he hadn't just made things worse.

 

* * *

 

The aching in Sportacus's chest... lessened. It wasn't  _gone,_ by any stretch of the imagination, but everything Robbie had just said made the hollowness suddenly easier to bear. A microscopic rational part of Sportacus's brain insisted that the emptiness was still just his crystal, begging to come back and  _be_ a part of him again, but with every bone in his body, Sportacus knew Robbie was the empty, gaping wound inside his rib cage.

The kids were charges,  _friends._ Lazytown's adults were companions and friends and sometimes resources for advice - more so Bessie than anyone else, really - but none of them were  _Robbie._

None of them were - were mysterious and captivating and something to want to  _discover._

Robbie was all of that and something more and Sportacus was  _so sure_ Robbie hated him-

-but he _didn't_ -

Sportacus's head cleared just enough to become aware of tears in his eyes, which he quickly brushed away.

As soon as his hand grazed his face, he felt his cheeks growing hot.

 

* * *

 

Robbie narrowed his eyes.

It wasn't  _quite_ dark enough in the ship to miss -  _that._

Sportacus rubbed his eyes, clearly trying to get rid of tears that  _very much_ deserved to be there, after all of what had happened Robbie wouldn't blame anyone for crumbling and sobbing their heart out - like the elf had done  _last night-_

But it wasn't the tears that drew Robbie's attention. 

No, it was -  _under_ the tears. Mirrored on either side of the elf's sharp, slightly pointed nose, beneath heavy blue eyes and just above that ridiculous mustache that  _somehow_ stayed perfect, and even Robbie's hair couldn't achieve that.

_He can't be-_

He  _was._

Robbie's heart sat fiercely disturbed and restless in his chest.

Gods dammit, Sportacus was  _blushing._

And there it was again, a skip to Robbie's heartbeat, something he'd always passed off as a nervous tick, a gut reaction to seeing the elf  _looking_ and  _smiling -_ he'd always told himself it  _had_ to be his wards, warning him. Had to be a distant memory of claws, maples,  _magic._

But he  _knew_ he was safe here, in a ship that should've been hostile territory, with an elf who should've been the enemy, and that stumble was back and it was hitching in his throat right beside his breath.

Robbie's head sank into his hand.

"Fucking hell, Sportacus, how do you keep  _doing_ this??" Robbie sputtered helplessly, looking at the elf through his splayed fingers.

Sportacus recoiled just a bit. "Doing what?" he asked, lip  _almost_ pouting. 

Robbie gestured fruitlessly in the general vicinity of Sportacus. "That! How do you -  _why?"_ At this point he had descended right into useless, frustrated babbling. "It always happens when you - when you  _distract_ me, even back then, and now it's  _worse-"_

"Robbie,  _what_ am I doing??"

"You're just-" Robbie tugged his bangs, flustered to the point of blushing himself. "You! With the mustache and the - the - the flipping and the muscles and your stupid blue eyes and - and you're too  _nice,_ but you're  _stupid,_ you thought I hated you after all  _that?_ After I fucked with your aura and you - and you were on my floor and I didn't  _want_ to poison you and - and - and then you came to find me down there and then you spent last night  _crying_ and I just - fuck, do you have any idea how bad it is to see you cry?? Because it's  _bad."_

Sportacus blinked slowly.

"...Robbie, you're not making any sense."

Robbie let out a groan that was halfway to being a distressed wail and dragged his fingers down his face. His head hurt too much and so did his chest and his stomach was flipping around just like the elf and he was worried he was going to vomit again-

And this was a  _stupid idea and he was just going to make things worse-_

"Do you get sick easily??" Robbie squeaked.

Sportacus's mouth fell open. "I - what??"

"Do you get  _sick_ easily?" Robbie repeated, hands shaking and legs shaking and hands trying desperately to cover his face. 

_This is bad this is bad thisisaverybadideabutitmightjustwork-_

Sportacus leaned back in visible alarm. "No, I don't-"

That was all Robbie's delirium-ridden brain needed to hear.

He reached out and before he could stop himself, he grabbed either side of the elf's face, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

 

* * *

 

Robbie tasted like cherry cough drops and a fever and somehow  _still_ cake icing.

And that was as far as Sportacus's thoughts managed to get before he closed his eyes and he melted into Robbie's lips.

 

* * *

 

Loftskip had been carefully monitoring her elf and the half-fae, with the same scrutiny she afforded the town and its resident monster.

Out of courtesy, she refrained from listening to their conversation, and only watched and scanned their vital signs. She noticed a spike similar to adrenaline in the both of them, and a rise in body temperature - worrisome for Robbie, confusing for Sportacus - and had only just turned her full attention upon them when she saw Robbie reach out and clasp her elf's face.

Scenarios raced through her computers in seconds. Most of them - the one still trained for threat assessment - anticipated violence.

The kiss was unexpected.

But Loftskip would have been lying if she'd pretended that it didn't bring her an overwhelming sense of relief.

 

* * *

 

The kiss lasted all of three seconds before Robbie pulled away with a sharp gasp, finally realizing what he'd just done. His stomach surged with such force he was  _positive_ he was going to throw up, but all that came up his throat was a shuddering squeak as he stared at the now rigid elf whose eyes were once again half-lidded as he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

_What the fuck did I just **do-**_

He watched Sportacus sit back, and lift a hand to his lip, touching it gingerly as his eyes slowly widened.

When he looked up, Robbie was expecting some scathing rebuke, or laughter, or just  _silence,_ not-

"...oh," Sportacus whispered.

Robbie's eyes narrowed. " _Oh??"_ he parroted, almost shrieking. " _That's_ all you've got to say?"

Sportacus clasped his hands over his mouth, drawing in a heavy breath. "I... wasn't expecting that."

The delirium was overpowering, and Robbie could barely  _see_ straight anymore, let alone regret the childish indignity of crossing his arms and snapping meekly, "Well, suck it up, I'm not taking it back."

"Robbie," Sportacus pointed out, "you're blushing."

"Well, so are  _you!"_ Robbie retorted. 

Sportacus smiled.

_Smiled._

"...your nose is twitching again," Sportacus murmured, inching forward on his knees and cocking his head to one side. Robbie hunched away, rubbing beneath his nose and realizing it was doing exactly as the elf said. "It's cute."

Robbie groaned. "Gods, you're being serious, aren't you?"

"Hey, you're the one who kissed  _me."_

Another, quieter groan. "...I did. Oh, gods, my mother would  _kill_ me."

At that, Sportacus went strangely quiet, looking down at the bed, and before Robbie could ask what had caused the sudden change in mood, Sportacus softly asked, "Robbie... what was your mother's name?"

_Dark and damp, leg hurting too much to run, almost drowning and always **her face-**_

Robbie gave Sportacus a sideways look, arms dropping to his sides and wrapping around his waist defensively as the memory surged through his brain. It had been so long since he'd forgotten her face - of course, he remembered  _now,_ if only a little bit, the shape of her eyes and her cheekbones-

But he'd never forgotten her  _name._

"...Ana," Robbie said.

Sportacus bit his lip again, crossing his legs and scooting even closer to Robbie. "I... wish I'd known that sooner." Rubbing the back of his neck, the elf looked at Robbie with a strange mix of emotions, hints of remorse and maybe a bit of helpless fear, and altogether sadness. "Robbie, when the monster... when it took me down in the sewer... it talked to me."

Even through the fever, Robbie noticed the way Sportacus's voice stumbled around the word  _it,_ and more memories of stammered conversations from last night stormed through his brain, along with the sneaking, reluctant suspicion he'd had for a little while now. "What... what did it say?" he asked hesitantly.

"It asked me what its name was," Sportacus said with a shudder of a breath. "What  _their_ names were."

Robbie's ears started ringing. "Did you-?"

"I tried." Sportacus looked away, now tugging at his earlobe nervously. "I - I wasn't thinking, I told them the - the nickname I used to call Íþró, and I told them Glanni's name, but I couldn't - I couldn't tell them your mother's name. I didn't know. I just... told them 'mother'." He shrugged slowly. "I guess they accepted that."

Robbie bit his tongue almost hard enough to make it bleed.

"...so it's," he began, voice hitching, "that thing... it's really _them_."

Not a question. There  _was_ no question, at this point; just the silent affirmation in Sportacus's slow nod. 

He gripped the fabric of his borrowed sweatshirt tighter. "How could they - why are they  _doing_ this??" he exclaimed, voice tepid with horror, not expecting an actual answer and more just... voicing his distress.

The widening of Sportacus's eyes gave Robbie the distinct feeling that Sportacus did, in fact, have some sort of answer.

"Robbie..." Sportacus licked his lips uncertainly. "I don't... really know what happened to them, but it's still them. They still remember us." He looked away, murmuring, "They still remember _you_. I just don't they... know the difference between hurting and helping anymore."

Robbie scoffed hysterically. "Know the difference-?? What, so all this time they've been trying to  _help_ us??"

"Robbie," Sportacus said with absolute seriousness, "they told me you have  _wings."_

Immediately, Robbie was reminded of last night, after he'd broken Sportacus out of their hold and separated him from his crystal... at the time, he'd just thought it was hysteria, the stress getting to the elf and making him babble nonsense. But there was clearly no hysteria  _now,_ and in some twisted way Robbie  _wanted_ to believe what Sportacus was telling him, but-

"I don't  _have_ wings," he argued weakly. "I'd - I'd  _know-"_

Sportacus reached out and gently grasped Robbie's shoulders, leaning in and pressing his forehead to Robbie's. "They said they'd made a promise," he murmured, "and they'd made you forget. You - you didn't have them in your  _head,_ Robbie. They were..." The elf shivered. "They were crying. I don't - I don't think they know what they're doing anymore. I don't think they can really control themselves, but they still remember."

"But I  _don't-"_

"Robbie, do you trust me?"

With more conviction than he'd ever afforded anything else in his life, Robbie breathlessly answered, "Yes."

 

* * *

 

"Robbie," Sportacus asked as a likely awful, but maybe, just  _maybe,_ good idea sprang into his head, "do you trust me?"

The sound of Robbie answering "Yes" almost immediately stirred a hopeful warmth in Sportacus's heart, and he nodded slowly. "Okay, Robbie... if you want, I can try to - to finish what they started yesterday."

Robbie flinched. "What??"

Sportacus hurried to explain, "I... Robbie, they were  _so sure_ you have wings. It was the only thing they were thinking about, the only thing that  _mattered_ to them. I know they weren't doing it the right way, but... maybe  _I_ can." 

He could see Robbie's Adam's Apple bobbing, and his jaw clenching. "...you're serious?" he squeaked faintly.

"I'll go slow," Sportacus said, "and if you want me to stop, just tell me, and I will."

 

* * *

 

Robbie wondered if the elf was even aware how much it sounded like he was talking about something  _completely_ unrelated to wings. He hoped the sudden renewed blushing looked like it was owed to nervousness rather than - anything else.

_"Do you trust me?"_

_"Yes."_

Robbie drew in a slow, even breath.

"...fine," he whispered. "We can try."

 

* * *

 

Sportacus pressed his lips together firmly, pulling back from Robbie and flexing his fingers to make sure they weren't shaking. "Okay, uh, just... turn around."

Robbie gave Sportacus a glower that seemed only halfway intended to be a threat, and more something along the lines of a desperate  _don't make me regret this._ The man turned around slowly, tugging his sweatshirt over his shoulders, struggling for a moment to slip one of the sleeves over his cast. In the dark, in a sliver of moonlight, the cuts and scabs on Robbie's back from the other day were highlighted all too clearly, and Sportacus's stomach twisted.

"Hold still," he asked, laying his hands carefully on Robbie's back. The half-fae hunched over further, shaking under Sportacus's touch.

Narrowing his eyes, Sportacus looked past all the scabs and tiny acne scars, and focused on the same places the monster had directed him towards when he was still under its control.

Just to the left and right of Robbie's spine, within the hollow creases of his back, before his shoulder blades-

Sportacus pressed his thumbs down on Robbie's back, opposite where his collarbone would be, feeling the clamminess of Robbie's skin and trying to feel _deeper,_ through the flesh and before the bone, somewhere obscured through magic and unfamiliar anatomy.

"Stop!" Robbie squeaked suddenly.

Sportacus drew his hands back as quickly as he could. He heard Robbie let out a shaking breath. "No, it's... fine, keep going. I just wanted to make sure that you... would actually listen."

There was a mild retort on the tip of Sportacus's tongue -  _of course I would listen, Robbie -_ but he understood the hesitation, and the wariness, and only nodded as he laid his hands back against Robbie's shoulders. Forcing himself to ignore Robbie's shivering, he tried to remember what little he learned about fae and their wings. He wasn't sure how much any of that would help, though - half-fae were a different thing entirely, and elves knew almost nothing about them.

But one thing Sportacus had learned was that there was  _always_ a tell. Some sort of sign that could give you a clue, when there weren't glamours in the way. Folklore had it that fae women had hollow backs at a certain angle, and the men's skin seemed made of wood if you brushed it just the right way-

Sportacus narrowed his eyes and made himself ignore all of that.

Those were folklore. He focused on what his cousin had told him - that every fae was different, and the magic and the wings were all the same, and no matter how good they were at hiding, there was always a tell in their aura.

Sportacus blinked twice, and slipped into his aura sense, and his eyes were overwhelmed by vivid purple. The colors were cut through with muted blotches - the fever, he guessed - but he concentrated just on Robbie's back.

_There._

Just a little to the left and right-

Like a seam on a costume.

He pressed his thumbs just where he could see the faint curve of the not-quite-there seam in Robbie's aura, and slowly let his claws emerge.

"Hold still, Robbie," Sportacus reiterated gently as he pressed his claws into Robbie's skin.

Robbie tensed up instantly, and Sportacus heard a shriek muffled through fabric.

Gritting his teeth, he pressed his claws deeper, and tried to move as fast as he could while keeping his hands steady-

 

* * *

 

_It hurts it hurts itfuckinghurts-_

He should've told Sportacus to stop. Should've - should've-

The fever heat rushed to his head and he squeezed his eyes shut and bit into the sleeves of his sweatshirt as the elf's claws dug deeper.

 

* * *

 

Robbie's aura flickered as Sportacus cut through Robbie's flesh, deepening the seam-

He felt something. Something soft and almost velvety, grazing against the very tip of his thumb.

Sportacus fought off the nagging fatigue and shaped his aura around his hands, spirals of blue and off-white, and coaxed the loops down into the fresh cuts he'd made, past Robbie's aura and within-

 _Come out,_ he beckoned with all his heart,  _come out._

 

* * *

 

Robbie could hear something  _tearing_ like wet tissue paper.

**_IT HURTS-_ **

He doubled over on the edge of the bed and let out a panicked scream.

 

* * *

 

It was the colors that surged towards Sportacus's face first.

As if Robbie's aura had suddenly regained its full strength, as if the fever wasn't there at all, dampening it, a wave of purple hit Sportacus's aura square in the chest, and blinding him for a half a second as something tangible smacked him in the face, with enough force to send him toppling off the bed onto the floor.

Wheezing, he blinked away his aura sense, and stared upwards as something huge and gossamer and  _purple_ fluttered in the air above the bed.

 

* * *

 

The pain stopped all of a sudden, and Robbie let out a ragged gasp, lurching forward and nearly slipping off the bed.

Why did-

He felt-

- _lopsided._

Twisting his head around to try and see over his shoulder, Robbie coughed hoarsely and squinted through the dark as the moonlight bounced off something faintly purple, twitching behind his back. Distantly, he noticed that Sportacus had disappeared, but all thoughts of the elf and literally anything else vanished as the twitching continued, and he felt something velvet soft flap against his back.

Tears burst over the edges of Robbie's eyes, and he remembered his mother's gold-and-black, and Glanni's deep, deep blue-

And his.

_Back pain on his thirteenth birthday, mother and Glanni both gone-_

_Freezing cold showers in the bathroom-_

_"He'd think the human half's the only one you've got."_

_"Keep him still, Ana."_

_"Ready?"_

Robbie curled onto the bed, face-down in the blankets, knees and arms trembling as the new barely-there weight fluttered over his back, and for once his back didn't  _hurt_ like it always did and he felt - he felt-

_Whole._

 

* * *

 

Sportacus clambered up to kneeling, arms over the edge of the bed, as he stared agog at the purple  _wings_ now extending from Robbie's back. 

They were huge, each about half of Robbie's height, slender and curved like a moth's, trailing long tassels that hung down around Robbie's legs. Robbie was curled up over his knees, trembling as his wings twitched lazily in the air.

"Robbie," Sportacus whispered, hauling himself back onto the bed and touching Robbie's shoulder - with now trembling hands, he realized.

Robbie's head shot up. His face was streaked with tears and something that was almost a full smile.

"They're-" There weren't words. Not now, maybe not ever. " _Beautiful_ ," he whispered, and that was enough for the moment.

Robbie sat up slowly, one arm clasped over his chest, the other feeling dazedly up in the air. One of his wings batted against his fingers, and he flinched, staring upwards with that disbelieving almost-smile.

"I-" he stammered, gaze switching to Sportacus with shock. "I have - I thought I didn't - they  _hid_ them and they were going to bring them back and then - Sportacus, I have  _wings,"_ he whispered.

The next thing he knew, Robbie's arms were around him, pulling him into a surprising death grip of a hug, and he heard a breathless, " _Thank you_."

Sportacus leaned into Robbie's head and kissed the side of his cheek, and wrapped his arms carefully around Robbie so as not to graze his wings that had been hidden for  _far_ too long - and it showed. They were crumpled at the edges, duller than they should've been, but they were  _free_ and Robbie was quietly crying into Sportacus's shoulder and Sportacus could feel his own tears threatening to join.

The moonlight filtered through Robbie's wings, and the faintest touch of a purple glow filled the airship.

Robbie pulled out of the hug, just a bit, looking at Sportacus with his wide blue-grey eyes, cheeks stained with tears and flushed red and the first genuine smile Sportacus had seen in weeks on his face.

Sportacus rubbed a thumb over Robbie's cheek, brushing away the tears, as Robbie croaked, "Why the hell are  _you_ crying?"

Sportacus laughed weakly. "I don't know." 

_I love you._

It could wait. It was on the tip of his tongue, but it could wait.

They were okay, they were safe, and Robbie had his wings again.

That was all they needed right now.

 

* * *

 

The elf was crying, too, and for once it didn't hurt to see it.

_Stupid, stupid elf, stop crying, thank you, I love you-_

His wings were heavy and lopsided but they were  _there_ and so was Sportacus and-

-it was more than Robbie thought he deserved, and the only thing he wanted.

The moonlight glowed in the elf's hair.

Robbie smeared the tears from Sportacus's face and laughed against the fever shudders and leaned forward and kissed the elf again.

_Art by[Celepom](celepom.tumblr.com)_

**Author's Note:**

> ITS ABOUT GODDAMN TIME
> 
> The story will continue in _Now The City Blacks Out The Sun_.
> 
> -
> 
> For those of you who were interested in my original stories, I've decided to try uploading them to [ WattPad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/Teejay_Kaye), which I've used and enjoyed in the past. Not sure what the frequency of uploading will be there, but hopefully I'll get some good stuff out for you guys!
> 
> And again, thank you all so, so much for reading this fanfic so far and leaving such amazing comments, they truly are a pleasure to read and the highlight of my day and I wouldn't be nearly so productive on this fic without them and without your support <3


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